When I was a kid - and I mean a real little kid - I once clambered up into the SkyTubes at my local Chuck E Cheese. If you've never been to one before, the SkyTubes are a series of child-sized plastic tubes and other surfaces suspended from the ceiling, above the main floor of the rat-themed entertainment restaurant. I, of course, got lost immediately and, after crawling around, running into dead ends, meeting another child (another lost soul? a guide? an oracle?), a sense of panic bubbled up in me. What if this was it? What if I was doomed to forever wander the polymer tunnels of this establishment?

I got out, of course. But that feeling of isolation and confinement stuck with me. That's what this game feels like.

Sure, it's less of a video game and more of an, I don't know, interactive art exhibit? You explore strange, in-between, lonely, liminal (of course) spaces, dream environments, like half-remembered childhood memories. You'll turn a corner and get an endless wall of white tile, you'll turn another and see one of the most stunning things you'll ever see in a video game. Beautiful in its own way.

You'll always feel lost, but always end up going the right way. It's clear that the developer put a lot work and care into this game, crafting these massive, maze-like levels with care, evoking the feel and mood of all those famous (infamous?) liminal images you've probably seen a million times already if you've spent any time on the internet. Memories of childhood as a maze, something to escape. A game that encourages you to contemplate.